


Things you said

by ijustwantedyoutoneedme



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Angry Rednecks, Angst, Dirty Talk, First Kiss, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M, Major Character Death in chapter 8, Public Display of Affection, Rickyl, Smut, Tumblr Prompts, Warning: Applesauce
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-19
Updated: 2015-04-19
Packaged: 2018-03-24 19:14:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 11,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3781237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ijustwantedyoutoneedme/pseuds/ijustwantedyoutoneedme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A compilation of Rickyl prompts sent to me on <a href="http://richardsdaryl.tumblr.com">tumblr</a>, ranges from angst to smut, with lots of fluff in between.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. When you thought I was asleep

**Author's Note:**

> These prompts were sent to me on [tumblr](http://richardsdaryl.tumblr.com), and all of them come from [this post](http://xfactorera.tumblr.com/post/110395333021/send-me-a-ship-and-one-of-these-and-ill-write-a)!  
> Anyway, I hope y'all like it and don't hesitate to ask questions if you have any :)

Alexandria came as a blessing. They all thought it was too good to be true, especially their leader, but they couldn't deny themselves the comfort of walls any longer. They had been on the road for so long – almost too long. Probably too long in Rick's case, was what most people there seemed to think, but Daryl knew it to be false. What was happening to the newly appointed constable was not a result of being on the road for too long. No, it was simply the weight of all the things he had to do to survive and to make sure his family stayed alive crashing down on him now that he was back to a semblance of normalcy.

Daryl didn't blame him in the slightest. Rick had suppressed most of it for a long time, mainly for his son's sake and to spare his family another mental breakdown like the one he'd had when Lori died – it was in his absolute right to let go of everything and let himself feel it for once. Which was ironic, coming from the hunter, but Daryl had always put Rick before himself, and it wasn't about to change. He just wished he had been there when the leader had tried to make the Alexandrians see what needed to be done, and when he'd had to put a bullet through Pete's head.

He was here after, when the constable needed him, needed his presence and his comfort, and it was more than enough. That's what Rick had said, anyway. The redneck wasn't fool enough to think things would have gone any different if he hadn't been gone in the first place, but he liked to imagine he would have been able to calm the leader during his outburst, maybe talk some sense into him and reassure him that in the end, they would have their way, and that their family would be safe from harm.

But Daryl was here now, in their bed, in their house, with Rick pressed against his back, an arm slung over his middle in a tight, loving embrace, his face nuzzled in the back of the archer's neck, breathing steadily – but not quite slow enough for him to be fully asleep. Daryl closed his eyes and chose to focus on evening out his breathing to match it with Rick's, the rise and fall of his lover's chest slowing down against his back, lulling him to sleep, his thoughts a quiet litany of  _Rick, Rick, Rick,_ as he reflected on their future together, the very slim chance that they could make it here, that they didn't have to lose each other anymore, and that they could finally allow themselves something they hadn't in a long time –  _hope._

“Ya need this ta work, and I'm gonna make damn sure it does.” Daryl whispered as quietly as he could, just loud enough to make it a promise, to make it something he could focus on, to make it  _tangible,_ something real that he could grasp and work on until it came true. Until they found what they were looking for all along – a safe haven, a place where Judith, Carl, and all the others could strive. A place where they could be together, without the fear of losing the other. A place where they could be.

“Thank you.” He felt the words more than he heard them, Rick's arms wrapping themselves tighter around him, the older man burying his face further in the nape of Daryl's neck, his smile a soft imprint on the archer's skin as he fell into a deep slumber, the hunter threading their fingers together over his stomach before joining him a few minutes later, warmth in his heart and determination on his mind.


	2. That I wasn't meant to hear (part 1)

“So... Jessie, hm?” Maggie grinned at Rick as she sat down on the grass next to him, facing the pound in which Carl and his friends were playing, him and Enid throwing water at each other and trying to outrun one another, laughter filling the air and warming everyone's hearts, including Rick's, as he watched his son finally have a good day, a piece of childhood that wasn't riddled with sadness and desperation.

“What about her?” The constable turned towards his friend, a small smile curling at the corners of his lips as he raised a brow, focusing his attention on Maggie instead of his son, the sounds of children playing and enjoying themselves still reaching his ears as he awaited her response.

“Do you like her?” Maggie tilted her head to the side as she asked, her lips still quirked upwards as she stared at the man next to her, trying to coax some answers out of him after a few members of their family had made comments about his relationship with Jessie, apparently finding endless entertainment in watching their leader interact with a beautiful woman – and reading way too much into it, seeing as Rick had never said anything about liking her romantically in the first place.

“Of course, she's a good friend.” Rick thought his feelings for Jessie were quite obvious, they had been friendly from the start and had steadily moved towards a closer friendship over the last few weeks, especially since Pete was now out of the picture and she could finally be herself around other people. The constable thought she was delightful, full of insight and incredibly generous, so it was only natural for him to like her as a person. What felt less natural was Maggie's question, when Rick knew she was very observant and would have picked up on his budding friendship with Jessie by now.

“Just a friend, then?” The young woman pressed the matter further, nudging Rick's shoulder with her own after she had scooted closer, her voice dropping slightly as if the two of them were sharing secrets no one else had any business hearing. Which was sort of the case, since Maggie wasn't convinced the leader was the kind of man who would display his feelings out in the open for anyone to see.

“Yeah, no more than that. Besides, she's not really my type.” Rick smirked at the way his friend's face lit up at his words, the young woman visibly very interested by this new turn of events as the constable lifted an arm, wrapping it around her shoulders in a gentle hug.

“Yeah? What's your type?” Maggie snuggled up against Rick, an overwhelming feeling of  _safe_  filling her whole body as she leaned into the embrace. Her mind was reeling, trying to figure out who the leader might have taken a liking to, processing every possible candidate while she waited for the constable to answer her, hoping for an actual answer and not an elusive dismissal of the conversation.

“Brown hair, blue eyes, tattoos, crossbow... Need I say more?” Rick was grinning all the way now, mirroring the look on Maggie's face, split in half by an enormous smile, barely containing a squeal as she told her friend how happy she was that he finally realized he had feelings for Daryl, only to be interrupted by a plastic cup falling to the floor, its content seeping into the ground at the archer's feet.

“Ya've got feelings for  _me?_ ” Daryl was standing a few feet away from the two friends, gawking at them, Maggie choosing this precise moment to make her exit, willing Rick good luck before leaving the constable on the spot, scratching the back of his head after he had gotten up, now facing Daryl awkwardly.

“I didn't mean for you to find out like that but... Yeah, I do.” Rick tilted his head to the side innocently, shooting an hopeful look in the other man's direction, praying to whichever god was still out there to smite him on the spot if the hunter didn't feel the same way. Luckily, no one would have to be smitten that day, at least not in that sense of the word, since Daryl admitted to returning Rick's feelings while awkwardly shifting from one foot to the other, blushing furiously.

An impossibly large smile stretched the leader's lips as he crossed the distance between them, stopping inches from Daryl before tucking a stray strand of hair behind his ear and cupping his face, leaning in to lay a soft kiss against his mouth, feeling the archer melt into the touch and timidly wrap his arms around his waist, bringing the two of them closer as they shared their very first kiss.

Today was a good day.


	3. After you kissed me

There was only silence. Terrifyingly deafening silence, only broken by the shuffling of fabric and the quiet gasps escaping either man's mouth as they kissed, laying down on the floorboards in the middle of the church they had found refuge in after the horrors of Terminus, clinging to each other like a lifeline, limbs entertwined and hands fisting leather and suede jackets. The chapel was silent for the most part, the only distinguishable sounds being the wind howling outside, the soft snoring of sleeping bodies and the wet slide of chapped lips against chapped lips as the leader kissed his archer with sorrow.  
  
They were broken. All of them, they were wretched, mere shells of their previous selves after what they had gone through, what they had seen and nearly died seeing. Almost dying at the hands of cannibals had put things in perspective, even more so than when they had been robbed of the prison and thought they had lost everything and everyone. If it wasn't before, it was now a real possibility that none of them would survive this, and the realization should not have been this heartbreaking but it was, it had shattered every bit of hope they had in them after all this time playing hide and seek with death.  
  
The promise of their imminent downfall was fuel to both men's desperation as they held on to each other tight enough to hurt, not caring one bit about the pain as it only meant they were alive and together, and Rick wouldn't trade this agony for anything else. If it meant Daryl was in his arms and they both existed, lived and breathed together, he would walk through scorching flames. Their embrace was tense, almost punishing, contrasting with the gentleness of the kiss in every way, pale lips brushing over their twins, soft like a caress yet fierce like a fire as they shared every ounce of their being with the other.  
  
Their lips parted after a while, both men panting as their newly opened eyes found the other's, staring back into the same painting of grief and melancholy, the only color giving it life being the bright blue of their affection for one another. Rick let go of the archer's jacket with one hand, lifting it up to cup his lover's cool cheek, his thumb ghosting over the sharp edge of his cheekbone as he leaned forward to press his forehead against Daryl's, both men closing their eyes at the contact. They let themselves feel each other's presence for a while, not moving nor talking, simply breathing in the other's familiar, reassuring scent until one of them decided to break the eerie silence surrounding them in a whisper.  
  
“Don't ever leave my side.” It was Rick who spoke first, anguish taking over the quiet rasp of his voice as he let out words he hoped wouldn't be the last ones he ever said to the archer, his grip on Daryl's jacket tightening while his other hand ran from his face to the back of his head, cold fingers threading themselves in the matted locks of hair at the base of his neck, sending chills down the hunter's spine.  
  
“Never.” The word sounded like a promise as it rolled off Daryl's tongue into the icy air of the church, the archer making it a point to stare his lover in the eye before leaning in to claim his mouth in a repeat of their kiss, unhurried, tender, and full of the love they were too scared to profess to each other verbally, but knew laid bare beneath the surface – they just had to take one look at the other to see it.


	4. When you were scared

Seconds felt like hours in the crippling darkness of the train car as the group planned their escape, encouraged by Rick's fierce conviction that they were going to come out of this alive. He was the only one, Daryl thought, or at least it seemed that way, because from the archer's point of view, there was no getting out of here without losing at least half of their people. He didn't want to think about it, to even consider it, but the facts were all here : they were trapped, with no weapons, no way of running, and most importantly, no reason to fight for their lives after the great loss they had suffered only days prior.  
  
Truth is, Daryl was afraid. Scared out of his mind, trembling like a leaf in the confines of their prison, barely supporting himself against the rusty walls in the darkest corner he could find. He wanted to help, needed to help, but the terror was debilitating, throwing him back to instances of his childhood he would have liked to forget – moments in which the only comfort he could find laid in the darkness of his closet after a severe beating. He felt out of breath, out of place and out of faith, standing there, quivering like a child when he should have been looking for a way out, for a loose bolt in the metal of the cage surrounding them, anything he could use to find an alternative to his family's fate, to  _his_  fate.  
  
He felt Rick approaching more than he heard him, his presence making the air shift around him as he leaned into the archer, the leader's hand coming up to clasp his own, while the other came to a rest on the back of Daryl's neck, the warmth of the touch seeping deep into his bones, calming his raging heartbeat and strained breathing. The hunter could hardly see him, only able to make out the outline of his shoulders and the shape of his head, curls wildly sticking out of it in shadowy strings. The older man closed the last of the distance between them, his face mere inches from Daryl's, his body radiating comfort and heat – no doubt coming from the angry fire burning inside of him – as he murmured.  
  
“I need you to fight, Daryl. I need you on my side.” The soft whisper of Rick's voice brushed over the archer's lips, who shivered at the sensation, at the feeling of being wanted, of being  _needed_  by the man he had come to look to and adore over the last couple of years, his fear slowly shrinking to nothing but a soft noise in the back of his head, like static in the background.  
  
“Always am. Rick, if things go South, I just want ya ta know that...” Daryl's words were cut short by the sound of feet on the asphalt outside, of voices yelling out orders and seconds later the archer was glued to the wall closest to the source, spotting four people, the group getting ready to strike once they opened the doors. Next thing they knew, they were blinded by light from the top of the train car, tear gas exploding in the confines of their prison, catching them off guard and throwing their escape plan out the window.  
  
Four of them were knocked unconscious, waking up as they were being manhandled to bend over a trough, no doubt in their minds as to what was going to happen to them. Daryl was whimpering now, panic coursing throughout his whole body, yet finding it in himself to take some comfort in knowing that if he was going to die, he would do so next to the man he loved. Rick's eyes found his, and in them the former deputy found all the words the archer had not been able to say earlier, a mantra of _I love you_  and  _I'm sorry_  storming behind the dull grey of the hunter's irises, strong enough to light back up the fire inside of the other man, determination raging in every single cell of the leader's body.  
  
They would survive this.


	5. When we were the happiest we ever were

Happiness wasn't supposed to be part of the package, especially not in this world, but the only word Daryl could put on the feeling was this one, as he laid on his back in the blankets arranged on the floor of the watch tower, staring into the night through the window, Rick to his left, mirroring him. Everyone kept saying that the one good thing that came from the apocalypse was how the skies had cleared, making starless nights feel like a distant memory whenever they found the time to look to the heavens after the sun had set.  
  
Daryl agreed with that, for the most part, but to him, the lack of pollution wasn't the only good thing the dead rising had brought. No, the apocalypse might have been the best thing to ever happen to him, but it was not because of the navy skies dotted an iridescent white, or because the air was finally pure and breathable, it was simply because he had found what he didn't know he had been looking for his whole life : Rick. If there was one thing the archer would never want to give up, it was him, the man who had given him everything in exchange for the easiest thing in the world to give away – his loyalty.  
  
The hunter had given in to Rick like it was second nature, like it was what he was meant to do since the day he was born – follow the man till the end of the earth and beyond. There had been no verbal pledge of loyalty between the two, it was a tacit agreement embodied by nods, hand gestures and meaningful looks, much more powerful than any kind of pact they could have signed to tie themselves to the other. They didn't need a contract to make it work, to  _be_  with one another, all they needed was this silent way of communication, that shared frequency they didn't even need to push because it was just  _there._  
  
They were two sides of the same coin, moving as one on the outside as well as on the inside, bodies sliding together and merging into one, be it in the throes of battle or in the fire of an embrace. They were intimate without having to touch one another, their heartbeat in sync from the moment they had laid eyes on each other. Their connection felt supernatural, like a gift from the gods, too strong to be ordinary, it was innate, powerful, and consuming. It wasn't natural, but it felt right, it felt good, it felt like _home._  
  
This is what Daryl would probably choose to describe Rick like –  _home._ Being near him felt like unlocking the front door, touching his arm like throwing the keys on a table in the entryway, holding his hand like letting himself fall into bed, looking in his eyes like breathing in the familiar scent of wood, kissing him like rolling and stretching in the covers, and being in his arms like the overwhelming feeling of _safe._  
  
Looking over at Rick's peaceful expression made him shiver pleasantly, reminding him of how lucky he was to not only be with him, but to also be this man's  _everything._ To know the leader had a special place in his heart just for  _him,_ that he thought of him when he went to sleep and when he woke up, that he was just as important to him as his children made him thank a god he didn't even believe in for bringing them together. His feelings for Rick were nothing if not pure, and Daryl wondered exactly where such innocence originated within his tortured self as the older man turned to look at him, a soft smile stretching his lips.  
  
“I think we can make it here. Not just survive, but live. I think we can do that here.” Rick's voice was steady as he spoke, extending his arm to clasp Daryl's palm in his, intertwining their fingers between the two of them, and rubbing circles over the back of the archer's hand with his thumb as he stared at him, looking for a sign that this was what the hunter was thinking as well, that they could finally have something good.  
  
“Yeah, we'll make it work.” Daryl nodded to put emphasis on his words, shifting so he could get closer to the leader, propping himself up on one elbow before leaning down to brush his lips against his lover's. The kiss felt like a promise as they both melted into the touch, Rick's free arm coming up to pull the archer down against him to deepen the kiss, both men soon taking turns dominating the embrace as they rolled around in the sheets, finally letting themselves enjoy what they had fought so hard to protect.


	6. When you woke up next to me for the first time

Rick felt eyes on him the second his body started to wake up. He didn't need to open his eyes to know it was Daryl who was staring at him like this, opting instead to scoot closer to the man in his bed and wrap him into a tight embrace, trapping the hunter between him and the wall, tangling his legs with the archer's as he buried his head in his neck, inhaling a scent that was so  _Daryl_  it made his head spin. Rick hummed at the smell of pine trees and cigarettes, the smell of  _man,_ nuzzling his face in the soft skin of his throat to breathe in more of the addicting essence that made him dizzy with arousal.

He felt Daryl smile against his head as he responded to the hug by wrapping his arms around Rick firmly, almost possessively, inhaling the barely there smell of the leader's freshly washed hair, wild curls tickling his nose in the process. They stayed like this for some time, not moving except for the synchronized rise and fall of their chests, until Rick decided it wise to start laying kisses over the smooth expanse of Daryl's throat, tearing a sleepy moan out of the archer's lips when his own made contact with a patch of soft flesh beneath the hunter's ear, mouthing at it lazily to get more of those sweet, tired noises out of his lover.

“Rick, cut it out, I gotta go load the car for the run.” Daryl practically growled, his voice still groggy from a good night's sleep – the first since the world fell apart, and coincidentally, the first he ever spent with Rick. The archer had to admit sleeping in his lover's arms had played a big role in the quality of his dreams, a pair of unnaturally blue eyes always showing up at one point or another to help him dodge a bite or a bullet.

“Five more minutes...” Rick purred in the hunter's neck, curling against him like a cat as his lips migrated towards Daryl's jawline, brushing over his stubble and up towards his mouth, stealing a kiss they would later consider their very first morning kiss. The kiss was soft, sticky sweet, reminding Rick of the syrup he used to pour over Lori's lumpy pancakes every Sunday to chase away the taste of flour, but here, the taste was all  _Daryl_  and the leader wanted nothing more than to drown in the honey of the man's lips.

They kissed for what seemed like forever yet not quite long enough, evidenced by the whine coming out of Rick's mouth when the archer pulled back and their lips parted, making Daryl chuckle at the childish way the leader was furrowing his brow and scrambling to get the hunter's lips back on his. Rick succeeded after a while, but not without receiving an exasperated eye roll from his lover, who gave in and kissed him some more, brushing stray curls out of his face before pulling back once again, this time far enough to sit up against the wall behind him, hissing as the cold concrete came in contact with the heated skin of his back.

“Not gonna sleep in yer cell no more if ya make me late every morning.” Daryl jested with a nod in the other man's direction, Rick groaning at the prospect of not having his lover in his bed every night, throwing an arm over his eyes in a dramatic fashion to put emphasis on the fact that he would much rather die than spend another night alone in his bunk.

The gesture pulled a deep laugh out of the archer before he moved to straddle Rick, stealing a quick kiss from him on his way up and off the bed, slipping out of the comforting warmth of the sheets, clad in nothing but his own skin as he stretched in the middle of the cell. The leader's eyes followed his every move, from the way he zipped up his jeans to the way he laced his boots, pausing every now and then to focus on the roll of Daryl's muscles, a smile plastered on his face the whole time.


	7. When you were crying

Daryl had only seen Rick Grimes cry three times in the two years they had known each other. The first time, it was not something quiet, or beautiful – it was loud, ugly, and heartwrenching. The archer had felt like his own heart had been ripped out of his chest when he had seen the look of absolute _pain_  on Rick's face upon learning of his wife's cruel, and untimely passing. His sobs were coming in violent hiccups, his whole frame trembling as he struggled to keep himself on his feet, stumbling in his son's direction, trying to make sense of what had just happened, understanding downing on him in the form of one word.  
  
“Oh no... No... No...” Rick was drunk with agony, the weight of his grief taking him down, making him fall to the ground in a loud thud, rendering him to nothing but a shaking heap, sprawled on the asphalt of the prison's courtyard. His sobs were unforgiving, deafening in the archer's ears as he could do nothing but stand there and watch his leader fall to pieces without so much as a hint of grace, yet Daryl could not find it in himself to hold the older man accountable for his lack of composure, as he, too, felt like something had shattered inside of him, in part from hearing of Lori's death, but mostly from witnessing Rick's misery.  
  
The second time Daryl had seen Rick cry was in total contrast with the first. It was a thing of beauty, truly. The archer could honestly say he had never seen a thing as magnificent as Rick Grimes crying tears of happiness as he held his daughter in his arms after days of thinking she was dead. Saying he had never witnessed a reunion as wonderful as this one, or seen a person as beautifully overjoyed as Rick was would in no way be stretching the truth either. A tingling sensation had taken over the hunter's heart as he watched the man he loved cradling his baby against his chest in the most delicate of ways, warmth coursing throughout his whole body, Rick's joy contagious even from a distance.  
  
The third time Rick had shed tears in Daryl's presence was the hardest of them all. Their ears were still ringing from the sound of two consecutive gunshots, one killing Beth, the second ending the life of her killer, and the archer's vision might have been blurred by the tears, but one glance towards his leader was all it took to know he was fighting hard not to let his own spill. Shock was written all over the group's faces as they stared at the girl's lifeless body, sprawled gruesomely on the once pristine hospital floor, now soaked in the blood of an innocent in a picture of sickening morbidity.

There was only silence for what seemed like forever, Daryl's gaze obscured by tears and unfocused as he composed himself enough to kneel in front of Beth's corpse and gather her in his arms, her body limp and malleable like a doll's. Rick was standing his ground, his eyes wet and somber as he stared at the policemen across from him, soon focusing on the doctor who had spoken, telling them that they were surviving here, that this was better than out there. Daryl did not even have to look at the leader to know he would sooner die than stay in a place where one of their own had been murdered in cold blood.  
  
“No. And I'm taking anyone back there who wants to leave. If you want to come with us, just step forward now.” His tone was decisive, leaving no room for hesitation as he fought even harder to hold back the tears threatening to run down his face any moment now. Rick was already broken – had been for a long time – but any additional hit made his walls crumble even further, turning him into the shell of the man he used to be, turning him into something Daryl wished he would never have had to become in order to stay alive.


	8. After it was over

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This prompt contains Major Character Death, sorry guys!

None of it felt over, only unfinished. Not enough moments spent with just the two of them, too many things left unsaid. Too much time spent apart, and not enough glimpses of what could have been. In that moment, the only thing Rick could think of was how incomplete their story felt. As he held the fallen archer's bleeding body against his chest, the only thing Rick felt was unfulfilled. They had had so many opportunities to get to know one another, to expand the extent of their bond, to say the things they had wanted to say for so long, yet they hadn't, and Rick hated himself for it.  
  
Rick hated himself for all the things he should have said but didn't, for all the things he should have done but didn't, and most of all, for letting Daryl believe that he should feel compelled to give his life to save someone else's, because if Rick was being honest with himself, he would have given everything he had to take the hunter's place, or better yet, have somebody else take it. But they could not go back, not anymore, not when Daryl's temperature was raising two degrees a minute and he was struggling to keep his eyes open to keep looking at Rick.  
  
Rick, who was the reason why Daryl's light was slowly slipping out of him. Rick, who had been foolish enough to let himself get overwhelmed by the herd of walkers they were fighting. Rick, who had been stupid enough to drop his knife while wrestling one of them, forcing the other to use his body as a shield to protect him while he picked it up. Rick, who had been a second too late to get a hold of his weapon and stab through the head of the rotter who was attacking Daryl, letting him bite a piece of the hunter's neck off, dooming him in an instant. Rick, who could not stop looking at his beautiful archer slowly fading away, his head cushioned on the leader's lap as color steadily drained from his face.  
  
“S'okay, Rick. I did what I had ta do. Yer alive and that's all that matters.” Daryl's voice was weak, his tone flat and his eyes glossed over, the fever making strands of dark hair stick to his forehead, which Rick brushed away with a featherlight touch. The leader took the time to memorize every single feature, tracing them with the tips of his fingers, all the soft curves and sharp angles that made Daryl's face what it was – a mesmerizing work of art. The archer was watching him, his bloodshot eyes alert despite the disease flowing through his veins, following the path of every single tear streaming down Rick's face, straining to lift up his arm and wipe them away with a trembling thumb, his hand laying flat on the side of the other's face.  
  
Rick wanted to scream, to rip out his hair and gut every walker in a thirty mile radius, but Daryl had made him promise not to, all those years ago, back when they were happy and safe in the confines of their home – the prison. Daryl had asked him not to do anything that would endanger his life, saying he had children he needed to think of and protect, and that he would need to be himself in order to do so if the archer were to disappear, since the hunter wouldn't be there to help him do it anymore.  
  
None of it felt over, but coincidentally, it was for Rick. As Daryl drew in one last breath, closed his tired eyes, and dropped his hand in his lap like a puppet after its strings had been cut, the leader was reminded of how alone he was now that the archer wasn't part of this world anymore. And as he drove the arrow through the side of the hunter's skull, he was reminded of how lonely the world was going to feel without Daryl by his side, tethering him.


	9. Under the stars in the grass

They had started doing this a little over a month ago. It was a quiet agreement between the two, neither of them voicing their need for the other's company, only one look sufficing for them to know tonight would be one of those nights. It was not an everyday thing, more like a three times a week thing, or whenever they felt like it thing. They would meet whenever they needed a moment to themselves, needed a break after a particularly hard day, or comfort after a loss, and it so happened that tonight was one of those nights.  
  
It was a little past midnight, Maggie had relieved Daryl of his shift in the watch tower, and the archer was laying on his back in the field, his head pillowed on his arms, patiently waiting for Rick to slip out of the cell block and join him. The hunter did not have to look behind him to know the former deputy was making his entrance, knowing it was him from the sound of his feet on the grass, his confident gait audible in the way the ground was shuffling beneath his boots, making it easy for Daryl to imagine the long strides he was taking towards him, his eagerness palpable as the leader finally sat down next to the other.  
  
Daryl waited for him to settle down comfortably before turning his head to look at him, a ghost of a smile on his lips as he watched Rick relax instantly. A serene look spread on the leader's face as he returned the hunter's grin, his eyes sparkling in the moonlight like they would if this was the kind of romantic novel Daryl had stumbled upon in the prison's library not too long ago. The archer's gaze remained on the former deputy's face even as he turned his head to look at the night sky, sighing happily for the first time that day.  
  
Daryl was not pretentious enough to think himself responsible for the joyful state the other was in, he knew his feelings for the older man could very well be one-sided, but he liked to imagine he was at least part of what was easing the tension off Rick's shoulders. Truth is, he did not even expect them to be returned, but what he expected even less was to feel the leader's warm hand clasping his, fingers slipping between his own in the gentlest of ways. The archer's breath caught at the feeling, his whole body tensing like a bow string before relaxing entirely, his previously slack hold on the other's palm firming slightly in a soft squeeze.  
  
“The other night, you said a lot of people thought Polaris was the brightest star, but that it was actually Sirius. I get why people would think that.” Rick nodded absentmindedly in the direction of the sky, his eyes no doubt following Ursa Minor to find the North Star at the tip of the Little Dipper's handle, just like Daryl had taught him a few nights ago.  
  
“Why's that?” The archer turned his head towards the sky, his eyes quickly landing on the same star Rick was focused on, quietly awaiting the former deputy's response while chewing on his lip. His palm tingled with warmth as he felt the older man's fingers tighten around his own, his thumb stroking over the back of his hand in idle patterns, the touch so soft Daryl barely felt it. His heart was hammering in his chest, and the archer had a feeling the leader could feel the heavy drum of his pulse where their wrists connected.  
  
“Because Polaris is always there no matter where you are, and people tend to give a lot of importance to things that are visible at all times. Sirius isn't always there to be seen, doesn't make it any less important.” Rick turned his head in the other's direction after he had spoken, an unreadable look in his eyes as he waited for Daryl's reaction. A smile crept on his lips as he watched the archer gasp, a startled look on his face as he realized the leader had not actually been speaking about the stars, but about them.  
  
_Daryl_ was the brightest star in Rick's sky.


	10. With no space between us

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This prompt contains smut (pretty vanilla but still)

They had not allowed themselves the luxury of proximity in a long time, but finding the walls of Alexandria and the comfort of a home had brought forth forgotten desires from a time when they had relative safety, back at the prison. They had not so much as shared a kiss since their escape from Terminus, and an array of suppressed feelings were coming back to the surface now that there was  _possibility._ Ever since they came here, they found themselves staring at one another in longing, catching themselves before their silent exchange became too obvious to the people around them, pushing the thoughts of intimacy and skin on skin contact to the farthest corner they could find in their reeling minds.  
  
Settling in Alexandria had been stressful for the both of them, having to bend to laws that had nothing to do with the ones they had to follow out there was not making it any easier, setting them both on edge. Daryl had found relative peace on the runs he was making with Aaron, and Rick had unleashed his frustration on the resident wife beater, both of them sating their feral needs as best they could, without making any progress towards one another. Their boiling tension had now turned into a simmer, less devouring, but still  _there,_ like a magnet straining to bring them together.  
  
Looks full of passion had turned into hardly contained touches, tips of fingers brushing over bare arms in electric patterns, turning their burning desire into a _craving,_ making the wait more and more unbearable as days passed without much more than a grasp on the other's shoulder. They told themselves delaying it would only make their lust grow stronger, and they were not wrong, as only a few nights later they were tangled in pristine bed sheets, the hunter sprawled on his back, thighs spread around the constable's waist, pulling him in. They kissed fervently as their bodies moved together as one, the older man's hips pushing down while the archer's rolled upwards, meeting each and every thrust, one hand tangled in Rick's hair and the other pinned down by his lover's on the bed besides their heads, fingers intertwined.  
  
Their lips only parted once it all became too much, their breathing ragged as they stared at one another, Rick's fingers curling into the meat of Daryl's thigh as he drove further inside of him, the hunter gasping softly, baring his neck and arching his back in an hypnotizing display. The constable bit his lip at the sight, diving in to get a taste of the archer's throat, kissing the tender flesh open-mouthed, nipping at it until he found the smooth skin of Daryl's ear. Rick took the time to breathe in the enticing smell of his hair before exhaling, warm breath ghosting over the shell of his lover's ear, goosebumps raising all over his skin.  
  
“I love being inside of you... You feel  _perfect._ ” Rick's voice was rough with sex, his words hitting all the right buttons, making the archer moan and tighten his grip in the constable's hair, pulling on curly strands as he rolled his hips tantalizingly. The motion pulled a groan out of the older man's lewd mouth, his thrusts driving him deeper each time, pushing them both closer to the edge every time he brought his hips flush against Daryl's, neither of them able to contain their cries of pleasure.  
  
“God, Rick...” The archer's voice was a sin to hear, as was the look on his face as he spilled between their merged bodies, his eyes forced shut as he threw his head back, both men crying out with the force of their climax, the constable collapsing on top of Daryl and knocking the breath out of the both of them. Their chests were heaving up and down, their breathing uneven as they took a moment to compose themselves, Rick propping himself up to look at his lover, never leaving the heat of his body as he brushed sticky strands of hair off his forehead, looking into his eyes with as much love as he could muster.  
  
“I love you.” Rick might not have said it often, but each time he did made up for all the times he didn't.


	11. That I wasn't meant to hear (part 2)

“Rick, I need you to let me talk to Daryl.” Deeana was standing on the front porch of their house – their home – visibly irritated by the newly appointed constable blocking her way to the entrance, looming over her with a look of distaste on his face, distorting his otherwise handsome features.  
  
“No, you don't. Just leave him  _be._ ” Rick's voice sounded calm, composed even, although a hint of anger could be heard in the way he pronounced the words, making sure to accentuate the more important ones so the older woman would finally get the message and back off, her constant need to patronize others and have everything go her way really starting to get on the former deputy's nerves.  
  
“No, Rick, I do. You know why.” Deeana's patience was thinning, especially with the way the younger man was trying to undermine her authority, when she had already made it clear that she had no tolerance for outbursts like the one Daryl had displayed earlier, almost choking Nicholas to death in plain sight. She had had mixed feelings about the archer ever since the group had walked through the gates, his interview not helping with her confusion as to what his place was going to be in their community either, but his attack on her son's friend had been the last straw, and she felt there was only one thing left to do – exile him.  
  
“Anything you wanna say to him, you can say to me.” The former deputy was defying her, plain and simple, challenging her and making damn sure he was being smug about it, crossing his arms and throwing a smirk her way. Rick was doing anything he could to get on her nerves, his need for confrontation growing stronger by the second, the constable more than ready to bare his teeth and lash out if need be.  
  
“Fine, Rick. Have it your way.” Deeana let out a long sigh, planting her feet firmly on the floor as she crossed her arms over her chest, mimicking the younger man, trying to appear bigger and more threatening than she really was, hoping she could succeed in getting her point across this way. “Daryl is not going to work out. I want him gone. He has the night to say his goodbyes and pack his things, but he will be on his way first thing tomorrow.”  
  
“No, he  _won't._ You have no right to make that call. Daryl is staying.” Rick gritted his teeth, spitting the words out like venom as he took a step towards her, squaring his shoulders and seemingly growing twice his original size, his posture threatening in every way. The constable had no qualms getting in the older woman's face, looking her in the eye as sparks of fury flew in his own, indicating just how on edge she was getting him merely  _talking_  about exiling the archer, everything about him screaming for her to back the hell off while she still could.  
  
“He's scaring people, Rick. I know he's part of this little family of yours, but he's not going to fit in, here. I don't trust him, and maybe you shouldn't either.” The community's leader was standing her ground, looking right back at Rick with a fierce stubbornness unbecoming to someone her size, and the only thing running through the former deputy's mind was how she should really know better than to get on his bad side.  
  
“You don't  _know_  him. You don't know the things he's  _done_  for me, for my family. You have no right to _judge_ him, let alone  _decide_  to kick him out. When the shit hits, and let me tell you, it  _will,_ you're going to feel sorry you left him to  _die_  out there because he won't be here to save _your_  ass and every single pompous _bastard_  living here. So, no, Deeana,  _you_  don't get to decide if he stays or not,  _I_  do. Because if  _he_  goes, _I_  go too. And if you think my family isn't going to follow us out, you're  _dead_  wrong.” Rick snarled, caging Deeana between his body and the railing, his eyes so full of rage the older woman had no other choice than to let him win this time, nodding weakly before making her way back to her home, hugging herself as she went.  
  
Rick did not have to look behind him to know whose arms had just wrapped themselves around his waist, the archer burying his head in the constable's neck as he whispered a quiet  _thank you_  in his ear.


	12. That others weren't supposed to hear

“Hey.” Rick's head popped through the door to Daryl's cell, one hand pushing back the sheet they all used for privacy, a smile turning the corners of his mouth upwards as he took in the hunter's current position, sitting cross-legged on his bed, sharpening his bolts. The archer's brow creased in concentration until he heard the familiar sound of the former deputy's voice, his head shooting up and his face breaking into a grin at the sight of his lover in the door frame.  
  
“Hey yerself.” Daryl drawled as he patted the empty space next to him, scooting over slightly so Rick could sit comfortably, the older man choosing to press his side snugly against the archer's, their bodies touching from shoulder to knee as the leader positioned himself next to the redneck, still beaming. The hunter nudged the other with his elbow, the bolt he was working on still in his hands, his movements suspended as he studied Rick's features, noting the everlasting smile. “Ya look ta be in a good mood. What's up?”  
  
“Just happy to see you, is all. Thought we could spend some time together. You know, _alone._ ” It was Rick's turn to nudge his lover with his elbow this time, his grin steadily morphing into a knowing smirk, mischief making his eyes light up in less than a second as he spoke. The leader carefully placed his hand on the archer's forearm, his fingers running up and down the tan skin as he raised his eyebrows semi-suggestively, nodding in the hunter's direction.  
  
“That so, uh? What would ya have us do  _alone,_ then?” Daryl was smirking now, fiddling with his bolt as his eyes followed the path of the older man's hand on his skin, slowly creeping upwards to brush over his arm and let his fingers slip beneath the hem of his sleeve, squeezing his shoulder. Rick licked his lips, his gaze flickering between the flesh of the archer's bare arms and his lips, the way they curled upwards making his own tingling for a taste.  
  
“Well I was thinking we could do that thing responsible adults do, like make out heavily on the bed, preferably naked.” Rick cocked his head to the side after he was done speaking, his proposal making the hunter laugh and throw his bolt on the floor, joining the pile of discarded arrows already there. Daryl leaned back on the cot and fisted his hands in the collar of the leader's shirt, their lips crashing together in a fierce kiss as he pulled him down with him. The older man hummed appreciatively, quickly adjusting his position by slipping between the archer's spread thighs, Daryl's legs wrapping themselves around him almost instantly, caging him in and forcing him to lie flat on top of him.  
  
They kissed for some time, the archer's fingers creasing the fabric of the other's collar as he held him in place, their lips locked in a tight embrace while Rick's hands roamed freely over his lover's sides, slipping beneath the hem of his flannel to stroke over the smooth expanse of his stomach. Daryl made a purring sound at the feeling of the older man's palms on his abdomen, the hunter busying his own with working open the buttons of the leader's shirt, successfully popping the first four before having to break the kiss in order to come up for air, both men's breathing coming in a little heavy.  
  
“Still waiting on that naked part ya mentioned.” Daryl smirked, his eyes glossed over with a mix of arousal and amusement, a perfect copy of the leader's hungry gaze as it roamed over the archer, mentally undressing him. Rick chuckled softly at the hunter's remark, sitting back on his haunches in order to fully unbutton his shirt and remove it, his lover doing the same to his own garment, both men tossing their clothes aside as the leader went back in for a short, yet searing kiss.  
  
“Be patient, before you know it you'll be begging for me to let you come.” Rick shot him the most arrogant look he could muster, the archer biting his lip to stifle a groan before hitting the older man's chest playfully, shushing him. The leader rejoiced as he noticed a blush creeping up Daryl's cheeks, his delight cut short by a booming voice full of animosity and an angry redneck barging in through the door.  
  
“THE FUCK DID YA JUST SAY TA MY BABY BROTHER?!”


	13. Over the phone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Changed "phone" to "radio" for canon compliance :)

A few weeks had passed since their arrival at Alexandria, and no further incidents had been reported after the night of Pete's execution. The group was starting to settle in nicely, the beginnings of a routine forming as they were slowly getting used to eating three meals a day and sleeping in beds again, after weeks spent starving on the road, and tossing and turning on the dry forest ground at night. Everyone was in a much better mood, Tara having made a speedy recovery, and even Sasha was starting to get out of her shell, spending time with Maggie, Michonne and Rosita when she wasn't up in the clock tower.  
  
The run team now consisted of Glenn, Morgan, Tara, and a rotation of members of their group, mostly Rosita when she wasn't busy with her nurse training, or sometimes even Maggie on the rare occasions Deeana didn't have enough things for her to do. But today both women were buried under a big pile of work, and Daryl, who had come back from an unsuccessful recruitment spree with Aaron a couple days ago, had volunteered to take their place, only too happy to get out of the house he had started feeling antsy in, going as far as comparing it to a cage.  
  
The four of them were now loading the van with the bare essentials, in case they needed to stay out overnight: food, water, weapons, ammunition, and a very well stocked first aid kit. They were just about done, ready to hop in, when their family came to see them off, Maggie pulling Glenn into a tight embrace, Eugene making sure Tara knew he was expecting her to come back unharmed, and Rick and Michonne checking in on Morgan. Daryl watched the exchange quietly, leaning against the vehicle as he smoked what Aaron had started calling his “lucky cigarette”, the recruiter claiming it had magical powers since every time the archer had smoked one before a run, they had come back in relatively good shape, and more often than not with a few precious supplies, and sometimes a few people.  
  
Daryl was putting out his cigarette when Rick walked over to him, crowding him ever so slightly against the truck, a stupid smile on his face as he leaned in to kiss the corner of the hunter's mouth, taking the time to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear in the process. Public displays of affection not being his thing, the archer's first instinct was to push him away, but a swipe of the constable's tongue over his lower lip had him humming in pleasure instead, a hand automatically coming up to clasp the older man's neck in order to deepen the kiss. Daryl found it in himself to exact some kind of revenge once he felt Rick's smug smile against him, biting his lip in retaliation, getting a surprised yelp out of the former deputy, who let go of him with a disgruntled look on his face, contrasting with the archer's satisfied smirk.  
  
The group was on their way a few minutes after, every participant in a good mood, making it easy for Tara and Glenn to joke around in the van on their way to their destination, a little town Aaron had spotted about 70 miles away from the community, seemingly untouched. They were hoping for a quick run through, sweeping main stores for necessary supplies, maybe take a look at a few small shops for less emergent items, and coming back at a later date for more. The four of them had been gone for about 10 minutes when the radio came to life, Rick's voice coming through the static a few seconds later.  
  
“Hey guys, could you please remind Daryl not to forget to check the drugstore for that  _thang_  he and I talked about?” There was no distress in the constable's voice as he spoke, only composure, and maybe a hint of amusement as he took in the confused silence of the group, and the quiet grumbling of his lover. The archer grunted as he took hold of the transmitter, yelling at him to go back to work through the van's radio, the line going dead seconds later but not before they could all hear Rick snicker through the white noise.  
  
“The hell is he talking about?” It was Glenn who asked, turning to Daryl, who was riding shotgun, trying to make himself as small as possible by sinking in his seat as he mumbled something that sounded a lot like “lube”. The word triggered something in Tara, the young woman bursting out laughing next to Glenn, who stared at the archer with an eyebrow raised and a smirk forming on his lips, unsure whether he should be amused, uncomfortable, or both, and Morgan barely stifling his laugh in the driver's seat.


	14. When I was crying

There had been no time to mourn. Not for him, not for Michonne, not for anybody else. They had too much work to do in order to welcome the Woodbury people into their home, and Daryl was not fool enough to think anybody would miss his brother, but he knew of some who were going to miss Andrea. He knew Carol would keep her sadness locked away, Glenn and Maggie would force themselves to smile in public and comfort each other when nobody was looking, Hershel would have that pensive look on his face, Beth's singing would sound a little less cheerful than it did before, Carl would shy away from his father, and Rick...  
  
Rick would put up a front and blame himself silently, thinking of all the possible ways things could have gone differently, of all the things he could have done to prevent the loss of someone they had known since it all started, and he would spend his time building back walls around his heart to try and prevent himself from falling apart again. He would do just that, and Daryl would ignore the pain in his gut every time he would set foot in the common area and expect to see Merle standing there, all smug smiles and irritating confidence. He would bite back his sobs at night, telling himself Dixons didn't cry, and get angry because there were no Dixons here no more to tell him to stop being such a goddamn pussy.  
  
He would snap at the old ladies asking him why such a handsome young man looked so sad, regret his words the second he registered the shock written all over their faces, stammer an apology, and get the hell out of dodge before he made himself seem like more of an asshole than they already thought he was. He would storm out of the gates, lie to everybody's face by pretending he was going for a hunt, run as far as he could, slump against a tree when he couldn't breathe anymore, and cry his eyes out until the sun started setting. Then he would pick himself up, shoot a few squirrels for good measure, check the snares, and come back to a place where his brother had  _been_  but would never  _be_  again.  
  
He would then spend the evening avoiding Rick like the plague and feeling bad about it, because Carl was already doing just that and god knows the former deputy didn't need yet another person acting like he didn't exist. And then, when everyone was asleep and everything was quiet, Daryl would curl up in a ball on the bed of the cell he was forced to occupy now that the prison was full of people who were not as mindful of the sleeping man on the perch as the others were, and he would cry some more, the tears never seeming to dry out. He would strain himself to be silent, biting his lips and digging his nails in the skin of his arms, praying for his little whimpering noises to be muted enough, so that no one would  _know._  
  
He would go on like this for days, slowly working himself towards recovery, the tears coming less and less frequently. But then one night, when he thought he would finally be able to go to sleep without crying, his grief struck him like lightning, and he found himself right back to where he started, bawling like a baby in the confines of his bed. He clutched his chest as tight he could, the sorrow so violent he felt nauseated, his lungs constricting painfully, making it hard to breathe, his sobs deafening and probably echoing in the whole damn cell block. He wept for what felt like forever, choking on his own air until he felt the bed dip and warmth envelop him in the form of Rick's arms, the leader whispering sweet nothings in his ear as he stroked his hair, brushing it away from where strands had stuck to the wetness beneath his eyes.  
  
“Shh, Daryl, it's alright... Go on, let it all out... But you gotta breathe, Daryl, you gotta breathe. Can you do that? Can you breathe for me, Daryl?” Rick's voice was soothing in his ear, his warm breath ghosting over his skin, his arms wound tight around his middle as he pressed feather-light kisses to his cheek, helping his body relax and his lungs loosen up enough to let oxygen in. The archer took a big gulp of air, his whole body shaking as he let it out slowly, the older man murmuring encouragements against his hair the whole time, never softening his hold on Daryl's body, even after the hunter fell asleep, exhausted by the tears.


	15. At the kitchen table

Daryl's side of the bed was cold when Rick woke up, indicating that the archer had been up for a while already, most likely tending to Judith so the constable could get some more sleep before a long day of patrolling the streets of Alexandria. He took his time stretching before actually getting up, every joint in his body cracking loudly after hours of inactivity, the former deputy groaning in pleasure as he felt everything pop back into place. Rick was about to get under the shower when he decided better of it, thinking the hunter might want them to do that together at night, the older man settling for a quick scrub with a washcloth instead. He ran a wet hand through his curls to tame them a little before brushing his teeth, putting on his uniform, and making his way down the stairs, the pleasant smell of freshly brewed coffee invading his nostrils.  
  
Rick wasn't surprised to see Daryl sitting at the kitchen table, bouncing Judith on his legs as he tried to feed her applesauce, biting his lower lip in concentration. The constable couldn't help the smile that graced his lips upon seeing his daughter in such good hands, her fingers and the sides of her mouth covered in baby food as she desperately tried to reach for the archer's already sticky face. The older man brushed past Daryl on his way to the coffee pot, making sure to plant a quick kiss on the top of his head before pouring himself a mug and settling in the seat closest to his lover, the chair scraping on the floor as he dragged it in the pair's direction. Rick took a sip of his coffee before placing the cup on the table, reaching for Judith's head in order to stroke her hair as she squealed happily, visibly overjoyed to see her father.  
  
“Been up for long?” Rick nudged his lover's shoulder with his own, scooting closer to kiss the top of his daughter's head, pausing long enough to press his mouth against Daryl's on his way back up, pulling back moments after to lick away the remnants of applesauce sticking to his lips. Judith giggled at the display of affection, clapping her chubby hands happily, the hunter welcoming the diversion by kissing the constable some more, making smooching noises to hear more of the baby girl's sweet laugh. Daryl pulled back with a smile on his face, using the child's distraction to put a spoonful of baby food in her open mouth.  
  
“Nah, she woke up 'bout half an hour ago. I've been tryna feed her since then, but the lil' asskicker won't stop shovin' the spoon in my face and smeerin' everythin' everywhere.” Daryl grunted, gesturing to his applesauce covered face, making Judith squeal in cheer amusement as she tapped her little feet on the hunter's knees, reaching for the spoon. Rick laughed at that, taking it from the archer to help feed his daughter, finally managing to get some food in her after three unsuccessful tries, his lover snickering every time the constable barely avoided the onslaught of applesauce towards his freshly washed face.  
  
“You staying with her today?” Rick nodded in the direction of his child as the other man attempted to clean her plump cheeks with her bib, getting most of it off as he grunted what sounded like a “yeah” to the older man's ears. The constable finished his coffee before playing with his daughter's hands, Judith giggling all the way, reaching for her father, who took her in his arms under Daryl's watchful eye, a happy smile stretching the redneck's lips as he laid back in his chair to wipe his own face. Father and daughter played for a few more minutes until Rick took a look at his watch and realized he would be late to his meeting with Deeana if he didn't get a move on soon. The former deputy kissed his baby girl before handing her back to the archer, making sure to steal a kiss from him, too, on his way to the front door.


	16. After I confessed my love

The silence was starting to feel awkward, which was a little unusual for them, since they usually found it easier to communicate without the use of words. But this time, things were different, and the lack of sound was deafening in the archer's ears, an uncontrollable blush spreading from his already red cheeks to his neck, and without a doubt, even lower. He had weighed the pros and cons of telling the leader how he felt, and had decided it wiser to confess to him instead of keeping on lying to him – even though hiding the true nature of his feelings was not technically a lie, the hunter thought being honest would do him better than burying his emotions would, instead of acting like everything was fine, when it really wasn't.  
  
So he had made the only logical choice – in his opinion anyway – and had taken Rick to a secluded corner of the prison, making sure no one was around before pouring his heart out to him. Well, he had hardly professed his love to the man, opting instead to make his confession as short and to the point as possible, hoping he would be able to keep hold of at least an ounce of dignity when it was all over. He had simply told the older man that he had been having feelings for him for a while now, and that he thought he owed it to the leader and to their friendship to tell him. Daryl was absolutely positive this had been the best course of action – until now, that is. Now, he was starting to regret his words, fidgeting like he often did when he was nervous, shifting his weight from one foot to the other and looking at anything but Rick.  
  
The older man was still silent, and the archer was slowly but surely starting to freak out. His breathing was coming in more and more labored, and Daryl was trying his hardest to conceal it, ending his confession with a panic attack not being part of his plan at all. The hunter risked taking a peek at the other, only to see the most intense look he'd ever seen on the former deputy's face in the year they'd known each other, his handsome features twisted in a mixture of confusion, pensiveness, and another emotion Daryl was having a hard time reading. The redneck looked away as though he had been burned, biting his lip as he fought an internal battle with himself, hesitating whether or not to add an explanation to his original statement.  
  
“I only told ya 'cause I thought I owed it ta ya, ya know. 'M not expectin' ya ta reciprocate or anythin', I just wanted ta be honest with ya. This don't gotta change nothin', 'm good with us bein' friends, I just thought ya'd like ta know, is all.” Daryl was all over the place now, his heart pounding in his ears as he scratched at the back of his uncomfortably warm neck in a display of nerves, barely resisting the urge to bolt at the feeling of the leader's eyes on him, staring hard enough to bore holes into his head. The archer exhaled slowly, as discreetly as he could, bringing his hand up to bite at the hangnails on his thumb, a habit he had picked up as a child and never really let go of.  
  
“I'm glad you told me.” The former deputy's tone was flat, no emotions passing through his voice besides some sort of thinly veiled honesty, giving the hunter a bad feeling. He was bracing himself for the insults he knew were about to come, half expecting a few hits as well, and halfheartedly trying to convince himself it would be fine if Rick decided to put a stop to their friendship. But deep down, the archer knew it really wasn't, and he had no idea how to move on with his life without the other's presence by his side.  
  
What Daryl didn't expect was for Rick to finish a sentence he thought was already complete, a genuine smile on his face as he said “because now, I get to do this”, before grabbing the archer by the neck, crashing their lips together, and kissing the life out of him.

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr @[richardsdaryl](http://richarsdaryl.tumblr.com)


End file.
